The Answer In His Eyes
by Castalia
Summary: Will Yuki ever be able to say the words Shuichi longs to hear? Fluffy little oneshot.


**The Answer In His Eyes**

_Disclaimer_: I do not own, nor am I in any way officially affiliated, with the characters and situations in this story. Gravitation is the original creation of Maki Murakami.

_A/N_: I was brainstorming for "100 Ways" and my mind just...wandered. The result is syrupy. Be warned.

* * *

_Late, late, late_. Shuichi yawned as he fished his keys out of a pocket to unlock the front door, remembering at the last minute that he ought to try to be quiet. Yuki was a week over deadline, and edgy. _He's probably writing, and he'll kill me if I mess him up...Mizuki's been pestering him pretty relentlessly, I think it's really getting to him_. 

He sighed at the thought. He and Yuki hadn't had much proper time with each other in at least a couple weeks. Bad Luck was recording its third album, and Yuki was neck-deep in his latest bestseller. Shuichi missed him. It seemed like forever since they'd shared more than a quick cup of coffee between their respective tasks, or a few weary words when Yuki finally came to sleep. He was tired of coming home to a dark and silent apartment, a solitary dinner left in the refrigerator, and a cold bed.

The lock clicked. Shuichi closed his hand over the doorknob and twisted, easing the door open with exaggerated care, then stopped dead. His heart lifted almost before his brain could process the information it was receiving. There was light...and sound...and, most miraculous of all, he realized belatedly, an enticing smell wafting out into the hallway.

Almost unwilling to believe his luck, he peeked around the edge of the door. An incredulous smile suffused his features as he beheld one of his favorite sights in the world. Yuki was standing at the counter chopping vegetables, his head bent in concentration. Something was sizzling in a pan with a long-handled wooden spoon in it.

Best of all, Shuichi realized, because he was being so quiet, Yuki didn't even know he was home yet. His smile turned impish.

With infinite care, he closed the door behind him and divested himself of his backpack. Then he crept up softly, step by step, until he could abruptly slide his arms around his lover's waist. Much to his gratification, Yuki almost dropped the knife. "Wha—"

"Honey, I'm home!" Shuichi announced happily, restraining the urge to sing and laugh and jump all over the place. Yuki, _his_ Yuki, was right there in his arms, looking at him with a brief expression of unguarded warmth, and suddenly all was right with the world again.

"Obviously." Yuki recovered himself quickly, casting a jaundiced glance over his shoulder at the little singer clinging to him like a limpet. Who wasn't fooled for a minute, judging by his impertinent little giggle.

"Did you finish your book?"

"Mmmhmm." Yuki went back to chopping vegetables with Shuichi still wrapped around him.

"Yay! I missed you."

"Mm."

"Dinner smells good!"

"Mm."

"I got abducted by space penguins!"

"Mm."

Shuichi burst out laughing. Once upon a time, he would have been upset by Yuki's unresponsiveness. Not anymore. Now it was just a part of the game. He snuggled closer, resting his cheek on Yuki's back.

"I love you, Yuki."

"Mm." This time, when Yuki turned his head to look over his shoulder, something very much like a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. There was a certain gentleness in his gaze that Shuichi knew and cherished as belonging to him alone.

Unable to withstand it any longer, Shuichi turned his unresisting beloved by the shoulders and grasped the fabric of his shirt firmly, pulling him down for a long-overdue kiss. When they broke for air, he didn't let go.

"I really do..." he murmured. Then he opened his eyes, smiling tenderly, and played his trump card. "..._Eiri_."

A look of surprise flashed across the writer's face, his eyes widening, to be replaced by a slowly blossoming look of wonder. His hands slipped off Shuichi's shoulders. For once, he was completely readable, raw emotions battling for expression. Shuichi held his breath. _Could it be...?_

Yuki—_Eiri_—looked away. When he met Shuichi's gaze again, there was bitter frustration in his eyes, and an unspoken plea. Shuichi put a hand to his lover's cheek. "It's okay," he whispered. "I know."

And the singer was himself surprised, discovering that the grateful, lingering look he was given in return filled his heart and more.

It took the smell of something beginning to singe to bring them back to earth. Yuki arched an eyebrow. "Then get off me unless you want charcoal briquettes for dinner."

Shuichi obediently let go of him and drifted over to the table, where he settled down with his chin propped up on his fist. He couldn't stop smiling, nor did he want to. His discovery settled over him, warming him through. He'd never again have to worry or wonder about what Yuki really felt for him.

It didn't matter that he couldn't say the words.

The answer was in his eyes.


End file.
